


in which jeremy heere is unusually confident.

by fbawtft



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: M/M, Pre-Squip Jeremy Heere, are you really surprise, obligatory 7/11 boyf riends fic, pining jeremy if you squint close enough, takes place before junior year so, where they make purple at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 23:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fbawtft/pseuds/fbawtft
Summary: mr. heere comes in hours later, finding the two sitting closer than usual and still playing video games. “why are your tongues purple?”





	in which jeremy heere is unusually confident.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm late to this date for this ship  
> i write in all lowercase for a reason.
> 
> this was SUPPOSED to be short and not 2000+ words long but here we are i guess!
> 
> also its rated teen bc theres a brief part where they read badly written porn scenes in books like normal teenage boys do, yanno

jeremy’s phone buzzed at least five times between the top of the hour, seven a.m., and seven-oh-five a.m. he groaned, pushing it away from his head. 

then it started ringing, the repetitive buzzing accompanied by his super mario ringtone made him shove a pillow over his head. “michael, _please,_ it is seven in the _morning_!” he grumbles into his bedsheets. the ringing stops and he thinks he might be out of the line of fire.

until it starts again.

he groans again, louder this time and grabs his phone, answering with a “what? why are you calling me so goddamn early, mike?”

“get up! get dressed! we’re gonna be laaate!” he can practically see michael jumping up and down in anticipation on the other end. 

“michael it’s seven in the morning.”

“it’s free slushie day!

jeremy groans for what feels like the umpteenth time as he falls back onto his bed, holding his phone to his ear. “you realize that seven-eleven starts their slushie promo at eleven a.m., right?”

almost immediately, as if michael had predicted his rhetorical question (because he asks it _every year_!), michael says, “yeah, but the lines are always so long! get up, get dressed, i’ll be over in ten! i’ll buy you a bagel,” he bribes.

jeremy whines quietly, “fuck you for bribing me with a bagel.” then, after a pause, “i’ll be downstairs in ten.”

michael whispers a triumphant “yes!” and speaks rushedly, “okay, awesome, see you then, bye, love you!” and hangs up. jeremy rolls his eyes and chuckles, looking at the time on his phone. 7:10 a.m. he lets his hand drop his phone onto his chest as he breathes deeply, pep talking himself into getting up. 

“you get a free slushie out of it and you get to spend the whole day with your best friend. what more could you want, dumbass?” he asks himself as he ungracefully and literally rolls out of his bed, dragging his feet to his closet and pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. (a pair of shorts that he almost doubles thinks because of his skinny and extremely pale legs. he doesn’t have time to mull over his fashion choices right now.) 

he pulls the deep blue atari shirt over his head and the black shorts on, followed by his socks and converse before walking into the his bathroom to brush his teeth, hair, and wash his face.

when he’s done with his normal routine, it’s almost 7:20 a.m. and michael doesn’t usually call or text when he’s outside. he usually-- 

_honk! honk!_ jeremy deadpans to himself in the mirror. he usually honks.

he rushes back into his room to grab his phone and house keys and makes a pit stop to his dads bedroom, knocking several times on the door until he hears a tired groan. “going with michael for free slushies, i’ll probably be back at the end of the day!” he says through the door, waiting to hear another half-awake noise to leave. 

when he does, he runs down the stairs, jumping the last two and bolting out of his house, quickly locking it behind him. there are more honks as he walks down the walkway to the rusty navy blue pt cruiser. “yeah, yeah, i get it! you want your slushies.”

“not just want! need, jeremiah! _need_!”

jeremy rolls his eyes and gets in the passengers side. “you’re a fucking dweeb. where’s my bagel?”

michael grins, tsking and shaking his head. “kids these days, only caring about food.”

“fuck off,” he smiles.

“i figured because we have enough time, we could stop at a diner and eat in and maybe hunt for some pokemon before we start on our town wide slushie hunt?”

“sounds like a plan! let’s go!”  
  


* * *

  
they had spent a good thirty minutes at the nearest einstein bros bagels before they started driving around to major spots that had an abundance of pokestops and gyms. 

“this goddamned fucking bulbasaur won’t say in the fucking ball!”

“are you using berries and a great ball, jer?”

“...no,” he mumbles, slouching in his seat.

michael turns to him and gives him a knowing look. “then how do you ever plan on catching it? wait, don’t you already have the final evolution?” jeremy nods. “then what are you trying to catch another bulba for?”

“the xp! i’ve been stuck on level thirty one for _so fucking long_ , dude.” jeremy exaggerates. “it’s been like twenty years since i leveled up!”

“it’s literally been three months, jeremy.”

“ _twenty years_!”

“you’re impossible.”

jeremy mocks him in a high pitched voice and laughs at michael’s reaction before leaving the catch and spinning his avatar around to look at the other pokemon that appeared around him. he made a face and brought up his radar, looking at other nearby pokemon and raids. “oh, hey, dude, there’s a groudon raid nearby at the plaza fountain, wanna take it?”

“hell yeah! the plaza by the park?” jeremy nods and spins his camera around, searching for new appearing pokemon.  
  


* * *

  
jeremy groans, leaning his head back against the headrest of the passenger side seat. "dude, can we please just go get some slushies now? we're never gonna beat these raids."

"jer, it's literally eight-twenty."

"so? we can sit in the parking lot and jam and talk or whatever. nothing we haven't done before."

"yeah, but we're usually accompanied by weed when we do that," michael frowns at him.

"mikey, i love you, you're my best friend, but there is nothing to do at eight in the morning."

michael gives him an almost disappointed and dry look that makes jeremy feel uncomfortable and self-conscious.

"s-sorry," he mumbles, turning his head back to his phone, opening instagram and scrolling his explore page. "if you have any ideas, throw them at me."

michael watches him for a moment, studying the way jeremy bites his cheek nervously and slouches in his seat. "we can, uh, go to a bookstore? barnes and noble opens up pretty early, if i remember correctly?"

"i'm down if you are?" 

"bet." michael let's an easy grin stretch on his face as he shifts gears to pull out of the parking lot. 

jeremy, still uneasy about the look michael gave him, looks up briefly to watch michael drive to the bookstore.  
  


* * *

  
when they get to barnes and noble, it's a quarter to nine. 

"wanna look at the children's books or go to the adult section and read embarrassing excerpts?" 

"jeremy, my buddy, i'm always down for reading gross and badly written porn."

"god, dude, don't word it like tha-"

"even _i_ write better porn than these middle aged women who don't know their vagina from their a-"

jeremy, red in the face, claps a hand over michael's mouth. "d-dude! not in public!"

michael grins wolfishly at him and removes jeremy's hand but not letting go, "what? that make _you_ embarrassed? you wanna read the porn i write?" he throws him a flirtatious wink, leaning closer towards him.

he doesn't know how possible it is, but jeremy feels his face grow warmer as he leans away from him. "wha- m-michael!" his unreleased hand doesn't escape his notice. he feels like his senses are tingly, heightened. like he can just… _just._ he shakes his head, pulling his hand away from michael and leading him to the back, past the central mini-starbucks. "c-come on, i wanna find the-the best worst porn they have."

he looks back at michael when he doesn't hear his footsteps behind him. "micah?"

he might be fooling himself but it looks like michael has the softest gaze in his eyes as jeremy tilts his head at him. “dude, you good?” jeremy walks over to him, waving a hand in front of his face to bring him back to reality.

“huh, what?”

“you were spacing. you still wanna go read shitty porn?”

“oh… yeah!” michael grabs jeremy’s wrist, dragging him along, “let’s go!”  
  


* * *

  
“‘...and then he touches me there, and i feel myself convulse in his hands. i feel like putty as he touches me all over-’”

“oh, god, gross, dude!” jeremy makes a grossed out face at him and michael starts laughing.

“that’s the entire point!” he closes the book and sets it back on the shelf, the cover facing outward. “alright, okay,” he tries catching his breath. “your turn, bro.”

jeremy’s face drops and his cheeks heat up, “r-right…” he stalks the shelves, running his hands over each and every book spine he sees, trying to find the right one to read from.

“it isn’t rocket science, jeremy.”

“shut up, i’m trying to find the one that looks like it might have the grossest scene.”

“you mean the one that’s bound to give you the biggest boner in all of barnes and noble?”

jeremy doesn’t - _can’t_ \- respond to that and quickly, blindly pulls a random book of the shelf. “you’re mean.” he sticks his tongue out at him and flips to a random page in the middle of the book. “oh, shit, this one’s written better than yours,” he snorts. he continues reading the excerpt to himself, trying to not go red in the face. “‘h-he hoists me up on to the counter, hands flying any and everywhere before he reaches under my dress and yanks my panties down and replaces them with his hand.’” jeremy inhales sharply and shakily. “uh… ‘he kisses further down my neck, mumbling something into my skin that i don’t pick up on. “what did you say?” 

“‘the hand on my hip squeezes gently and he pulls away to look at me with a smirk. “i said i can’t believe you’re already so w-’” michael closes the book in jeremy hands and fumbles to put it away. 

_he looks beet red,_ jeremy notes with a small giggle.

“don’t-don’t laugh at me!”

“michael, you’re as red as your sweater!” he throws his head back in laughter and holds his stomach. jeremy hears michael grumble and grabs his hand, leading the giggling boy out of the bookstore.

“so! i-i was all red for a reason!”

jeremy continues laughing until he’s pushed into the passenger seat. “do,” he pauses for a giggle, “do you wanna tell me why you were so red?”

michael looks at him, face still red and takes a deep breath, “because you were reading it so calmly and you weren’t even blushing? you always blush when we do that! and, y’know, you like always pop one when we do.” 

that’s when jeremy lets himself go red. “y-yeah but i’ve matured! plus it’s too early for that.”

“too early? jer, i love you, you are up at the asscrack of dawn before school to jerk one out.”

“i’m a growing boy!” he covers his face with his hands, “can we just please go get slushies already!” 

michael looks down at his wrist, checking the time on his watch. 10:30 a.m. “ah! it’s almost eleven?! already? how long were we in there for?”

“almost an hour,” jeremy snorts, buckling his seat belt. “let’s go! i want my free blueberry slushie.”

“yeah, yeah,” michael waves him off, starting up his car. “we _will_ be the first and last ones in seven-eleven today, getting our slurpees.”

“michael, we are not driving all around town for free slurpees. you say that every year,” he laughs.

“and you say that every year! live a little, jeremy!” michael reaches over and nudges him. “fine, i guess we won’t go to every store.”

“thank y-”

“just the local ones.”

jeremy gives him a look before caving. “ugh, fine!” there’s no malice behind his words, “let just go get our stupid slushies.” michael grins wolfishly at him and backs out of the parking spot, throwing the car into drive and making their way to the nearest 7-11.  
  


* * *

  
jeremy leads michael upstairs to his bedroom to close the night out with _apocalypse of the damned_. they still have their last, melting slushies when jeremy looks to his left and watches michael with his tongue poking out of his lips (he can kinda see the redness from the cherry slushie on his tongue, too… and if he could just…)

“hey, dude, you good? you totally just died again.”

“what? oh, yeah, i’m good!” he sets his controller down by his feet and picks up his watered down blueberry slushie to sip at. (jeremy desperately wants to say “well, here goes nothing - wanna make purple?” but he doesn’t and instead opts for saying…) “wanna switch drinks?”

“yeah, sure,” michael absentmindedly hands jeremy his drink. 

“not what i meant,” he mumbles, taking it anyway and setting it down between them. “i’m asking if you want to make purple.”

“wh-what?”

“you heard me.” he presses the home button on his controller. “do you. want to make… purple.” he points at his mouth and then to michael’s. 

michael nods and as soon as he does, jeremy moves from his beanbag to michael’s lap, clutching onto his hoodie as leans in for a kiss.  
  


* * *

  
mr. heere comes in hours later, finding the two sitting closer than usual and still playing video games. “why are your tongues purple?”


End file.
